"Political language -- and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists -- is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind."
-- George Orwell, Politics and the English Language

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Sunday, March 29, 2015

A Modest Proposal

Don't get me wrong, but if someone were to suggest that maybe, in the cause of generational self-preservation, we set the boomers out on a gargantuan ice floe -- say, the next chunk of Greenland to snap off -- with a couple crates of Matlock VHS tapes and a case of Metamucil to fight over, I'd chip in a few bucks to see that happen.

Honestly -- and before anyone gets butt-hurt, I know there are decent boomers who feel guilty about their grasping peers, just not enough of them -- one would be hard-pressed to think of a demographic that could be more characterized by their generational solipsism. Their parents beat Hitler and Tojo, held Stalin at bay, and built a mighty middle class, and then the boomers had a good time and then fucked it all up for their kids and grandkids.

And now they want us to pay for their party, the one they had without us. They're going to hoover up every fucking dime of Social Security and Medicare before they go, just you watch. If you're under 50 years of age, figure out a contingency plan, whether that means making cash on the side, escaping to a country that doesn't bankrupt people for health care and education, whatever. Because it ain't gonna be there when you're 70, unless you're rich.

I know some of the folks in that generation are embarrassed and ashamed at this, and they oughta tell their compadres that maybe the rest of us have a say in this as well, that we have enough of a time paying for what's left of our own lives, without having to worry about their goddamned Cadillac plans while we get jack shit. It's time to spread the pain a little.